


Remembering

by IAmAllYetNotAtAll



Series: Remembering [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, IronDad and SpiderSon, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker-centric, Peter has PTSD, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:39:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmAllYetNotAtAll/pseuds/IAmAllYetNotAtAll
Summary: Peter Parker wakes up on the day of his field trip.Except... that's wrong. Terribly wrong. Because that's already happened.Yet no one else seems to remember that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. 
> 
> So here's a fic I didn't think I would ever actually write but here it is. I don't know how long this story is or will be, but I'm excited to share it with you all.
> 
> This is my take on a 'what could be' post-Infinity War story. Lots of angst and fluff and Irondad stuff. If you read my other story, 'Starting Point', you may like this...? (Shameless plug). Also! Not 100% canon-compliant! I changed things to fit the story, so there will be some inaccuracies to the movies.
> 
> Anyway - here we go! I hope you enjoy :)

Peter's eyes flew open and his heart beat wildly. His hands shook and he sat up in his all too familiar bed. He took in his desk, cluttered with parts and homework, his clothes strewn across the hamper and floor, the science posters taped to his walls, and lastly his phone, buzzing loudly on his nightstand.

"Wha..."

He jumped out of bed and ran out of the room, leaving the still-ringing phone behind. In the hallway he bumped into May; hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in a nightgown. She looked at him inquisitively, confused by his haste.

Without taking a moment to take in her face; warm brown eyes, laughter lines, and chapped lips from the fading winter, he launched himself into her arms and burst into tears.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She stayed quiet, waiting.

"Aunt May... Aunt May, what's going on? Is it really you?" He asked between watery sobs.

"Of course it's me, darling. What happened? Did you have a nightmare?" Those had become regular occurrences in the last couple of years since he had taken on the mantle of Spider-Man, and they were occasionally vivid enough to cause such a reaction.

Peter pulled away and stared at her for a long, silent, minute. He seemed to be gauging her, reading her. She smiled softly in hopes of reassuring him.

He nodded slowly, "Y-yeah. Bad dream."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and wiped away his tears, "Did you want to stay home from school today? I know you were excited for the field trip, but you don't have to go if you're not feeling up to it."

Field trip?

_Field trip._

No...

"That's... um, no. I'll go. I'll uh, I'll see you."

Peter took a step back but hesitated. He stared at his aunt for another long moment. She stood still, trying to understand but failing. He hugged her quick and muttered, "I love you. I love you a lot."

Before she could say anything in return he was already racing back to his bedroom.

She blinked at the now empty space in front of her. Concerned, she went to her room, took up her phone, and texted Tony about his odd behaviour, hoping that he might be able to have Peter over for lab time after school. That usually cheered him up.

Peter, back in his room, slipped into his Spider-Man suit and climbed out of his bedroom window.

If anyone had answers, it would be Tony. Surely he would know what was going on.

His eyes still burned and Karen asked what was wrong and why he wasn't off to school for his field trip.

The fucking field trip.

"I don't know what's going on, Karen. Everything is... I'm really confused. I'm... I'm scared. I'm going to see Mr. Stark, can you let him know I'll be there soon?"

He swung as fast as he could to Stark Tower, the wind rushing by him. Once there, he landed on the helicopter pad and stared out at the city in wonder. How long had it been since he'd seen sunlight, or the deep green of the leaves, and the pale blue of a nice day? How long since he'd heard the chaos of New York, the sounds of people and the honking of cars... He couldn't say.

Now, standing still and not rushing on adrenaline, the onslaught was overwhelming his sensitive senses. Karen, without asking, turned on his soft settings, dimming his vision and clouding his hearing to something more tolerable. He climbed the side of the building to Tony's personal quarters and Friday opened a window for him.

He removed his mask and looked around for his mentor. Hearing the elevator moving, he rushed to meet it.

Tony stood in the opening looking the same as he had the last time he'd seen him.

_I don't feel so good._

Peter sobbed as he remembered being held, body burning with pain, and trying to tell Tony it wasn't his fault. His death wasn't on his hands, although death was not what he'd found.

Tony approached him cautiously, but Peter would have none of that hesitance. Couldn't stand it. He moved forward, faster than any normal human, and wrapped himself around him and buried his tears into his shoulder as he'd done to his aunt barely half an hour before.

He was tired of crying, his eyes begged for relief, but he couldn't help it.

It had been too long since he'd felt another person. How long since Tony had held him last? He wanted to stay there forever, to never be let go. To be given promises of peace and freedom. Promises of light.

Tony, losing any sense of hesitancy or awkwardness, held Peter just as tightly. He didn't know what to say and so waited. When May had texted him, he thought it must be some teenage angst, but this told him otherwise. Something was wrong, and why would Peter come to him when May had been right there? Luckily he'd already notified Pepper and she would not be disappointed in missing their morning jog.

Eventually, Peter caught his breath and spoke, "Are you real?"

"Of course I'm real. Pete, what's going on?"

His words were muffled since Peter refused to pull away, but Tony managed to understand the most of it, "What happened? What did you do? How is it today again? I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, kiddo, but I don't know what you mean. Nothing's happened. We hung out a couple days ago for some lab time, and last I heard you had this cool field trip today. Which you appear to be missing, by the way. Friday, notify the school."

"Will do," the feminine robotic voice echoed around the room.

Peter pulled back only far enough to look Tony in the eyes, "What happened with Thanos? I was... I was in the Soul Stone, and now it's like none of that happened. It's field trip day again. What..." he paused, and as he suddenly realized the truth he drew back out of reach, "You don't remember, do you?" It was a whisper.

"Remember what? Kiddo, you aren't making any sense. Who's Thanos? And what's this Soul Stone?"

"We... we went up in space, and then Thanos got the Time Stone from Dr. Strange and we... I... I died. Well, not really. I was trapped in the Soul Stone with everyone else. We were all trapped... You saved us. I know you did. He promised you would."

"Okay, let's start from the beginning. You had some nasty dream about space and getting trapped in a stone?" Tony's confusion only frustrated him more.

"No! It wasn't a dream! I was going to my field trip, and then there was this big spaceship, and I found you fighting this alien and we ended up in space to save Dr. Strange. We were on Titan and we fought Thanos. We lost. You got stabbed. And then we were all disappearing because Thanos won. He got all the Stones. And... and..."

Peter felt his face growing warm, cheeks red from frustration. He didn't know what else to say, how to defend himself.

Tony's face grew soft, "Okay, so you're saying all this happened today, but today hasn't happened yet?"

"Yes! I mean... yes. It's like it never happened. But it did! I know it did!" Peter defended himself, though Tony wasn't calling him a liar.

"Alright, I believe you. So in..." Tony looked at his watch, "a few minutes this spaceship is supposed to land, right?"

"Yes," he answered, taking a look at the time too. He'd been on the bus. He remembered that vividly.

"Alright, let's take a look at the news." Tony lead them to the couch and sat down with Peter pressed into his side. He refused to be too far and Tony didn't question it.

Friday turned on the television and put it on the news. She was scanning for anything spaceship related but had nothing to share.

Tony kept an arm around Peter, shaking and clutching to his shirt, and watched the news waiting for something.

There was nothing. The usual three 'S's of news, sex, sports, and scandal, were present, but nothing to do with 'spaceship'.

With nothing to prove his statement showing, Peter muttered, "I'm scared, Tony."

"Why are you scared? If there's nothing, that's good news right?" Tony had no idea how to handle this situation. He didn't know whether it was right to believe Peter, or if he should be doubting him. It wasn't like Peter to lie, nor was he any good at it, and this wasn't the sort of thing he would come up with for attention.

But spaceships and death and special Stones... It was a lot he didn't understand.

"I'm scared that I remember and you don't. You saved me, I know you did. But why... I can't do that again, Mr. Stark. I can't. I'd rather die," he said stubbornly.

Tony took his face in his hands and forced him to look at him, grip too tight, but stubborn, "Don't you ever say that you hear me? If you make me bury you, Peter Benjamin Parker, I will find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you all over again."

"I know." Peter smiled, "You already brought me back. You saved me from that hell. I just... I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

Peter's belief in him was staggering, though not exactly foreign.

"I don't know how long... It felt like forever. Like it was never going to end, and then I woke up in my own bed and... It's really scary."

"What are these Stone things?" Tony asked.

"They control everything," he answered from his minimal knowledge, "by collecting all of them _you_ control everything. Thanos wanted them to kill half the universe. I never understood why."

"And Thanos is... some alien?"

"Yeah. He was this big, purple guy. He kind of kicked our asses."

"Huh."

It was odd to talk about something that included himself when he didn't remember the event itself. Had he been stabbed by some purple alien? Peter seemed convinced and he couldn't find it in himself to doubt him.

The news still had nothing of interest to show them.

"Maybe nothing will happen. Whatever I did must have fixed everything. Why don't you stay here for today and we spend the day in the lab? Maybe you should take a couple days off school, too," Tony offered.

Friday had other plans for them.

"Boss, sorry to interrupt, but there seems to be some sort of spaceship approaching."

They stared at each other and simultaneously stood up.

"That doesn't make any sense," Peter said.

"Welcome to a day in the life of Tony Stark, kiddie."

They made a brief stop in Peter's room to have him change out of his costume and in little time the elevator was bringing them to the helicopter pad that also happened to serve its purpose for jets and spaceships. In the distance was a large, grey, spaceship that was definitely coming towards the tower.

"Who is it?" Peter asked as if he would know.

Tony ventured a guess, "Well, the only alien I know is Thor. He's actually a god, but close enough, right?"

Peter smiled brightly at the thought, "If he's a god then he has to remember, right?!" he asked excitedly.

"Maybe," Tony said, not nearly as enthusiastic.

Before the spaceship landed, a red and gold circle of light appeared before them. Peter recognized it immediately and gasped loudly.

"It's Dr. Strange!" He exclaimed, clutching Tony's sleeve in a tight grip in his excitement.

Tony had no idea what he meant.

A tall man stepped through the portal, red cloak billowing behind him. His gaze was sharp and hard and Tony was pretty sure he'd never seen this man in his life.

Peter, on the other hand, stepped forward and hugged the stranger tightly.

"Dr. Strange!" The tone was overjoyed, ecstatic to see the man again.

Stephen pat his shoulder awkwardly, "Um. Hello."

The man didn't seem to know Peter and Tony wanted to pull them apart, but he hesitated. Peter clearly knew him and had mentioned him a couple of times already.

Peter pulled back after the lukewarm welcome and asked softly, "You don't remember me either, do you? With your magic, shouldn't you remember?"

Yet... the cloak around his shoulders loosened and bobbed next to him. Peter laughed and smiled, "Cloakie! You remember me!"

Stephen watched confused as his cloak wrapped around the boy's shoulders and held him close. His gaze shifted and landed over the young boy's shoulders on Tony, who was shifting awkwardly but who met his look with a frown.

"Know my kid?" Tony asked, stepping forward.

Peter's hands held the edges of the cloak tightly, pulling it around him and welcoming the familiar warmth. It was more familiar than his bed, the suit, the city, the path to the tower. Nothing, since his eyes had widened, had been able to give him this comfort; this sense of reality. The cloak remembered him.

It hadn't been a dream.

"No, I've never met him. I can't say why the Cloak seems to know him."

"And that's a, uh, magic cloak, then?"

Peter spun to face him and his smile was bright and hid the redness around his eyes and the dried tear tracks down his cheeks. He answered, "This is Cloakie! The Cloak of Levitation. It flies and is generally awesome and very magical. I don't know why Dr. Strange wouldn't remember since he's also super magical, but I guess Cloakie is a different kind of magic."

"That's correct, it is a different sort of magic. And how is it that you know my Cloak?" Stephen's arms crossed over his chest and Peter shrunk under the intense gaze.

"I... it's complicated," he said, shrugging. The cloak squeezed gently in comfort. "What are you doing here, Dr. Strange? If you don't remember..."

Stephen looked up at the approaching spaceship in answer.

It was now near enough to land, its engines humming softly as it slowed for its descent.

"Do you know who it is?" Peter asked.

The air had cleared enough that Tony felt comfortable getting nearer and he wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulder. The cloak shifted to accommodate and Tony ignored it because that was easier than facing the weird magic that had somehow landed on his roof.

"What remains of the Asgardians," Stephen answered, "I have a special interest in one person in particular on that ship. The rest is for Stark to deal with."

"Wow, thanks," Tony rolled his eyes, "And what do you mean, 'what remains'?"

The spaceship quieted and Stephen didn't bother answering. At the base of the ship the doorway opened, panel pushing out to land on the cement with a loud thud to create a path to the ground. In the opening stood Thor, beaming and waving, with a woman in white armor standing on one side and Bruce Banner on the other.

"Greetings, Stark!"

"Hey, Point Break. Bruce, you're back!"

The three people stepped off the ship and neared them.

"Oh my God, it's Dr. Banner," Peter whispered in awe.

Tony ignored the comment, the day's events enough to excuse it. Peter hadn't been that excited to meet _him_ and Bruce was boring. Obviously, he wasn't himself.

The woman stayed at a distance, but Thor and Bruce came in for hugs and were introduced to Peter whose eyes were gleaming in wonder. Tony brought up the hair and the missing eye because it couldn't go by without notice. In turn, they introduced the woman as Valkyrie and she only quirked an eyebrow at them in disinterest.

"Thor," Stephen approached them now that the pleasantries were over, "I've told you that Loki isn't welcome here."

Thor had the gall to look chastened.

"The fuck, Thor? You brought Loki here?" Tony hissed, arm squeezing Peter's shoulder protectively. He didn't notice he'd done it, but Peter smiled to himself at the gesture.

"I had no choice. Asgard's been destroyed, my people need a new home."

"The Asgardians can stay, Loki must go," Stephen said.

"I know," Thor agreed, "I don't believe they'd fare well here on Earth, and I'd like to find a new planet for my people, but they need a place to stay until I can locate a suitable settlement. But worry not, Loki and Valkyrie will travel with me. Banner, I believe, would like to stay."

"That's right. I'm done with space travel for a while."

"I feel you," Peter muttered and Bruce smiled softly in an understanding of the sentiment though not the reason behind it.

"How long until you leave?" Stephen asked impatiently.

"As soon as I can find somewhere to leave my people," Thor replied, "I was hoping Stark would be able to help."

"That's definitely something I can do," Tony looked down at Peter, "Um, Brucie, can you take them inside and find Pepper? She should be in her office, Friday will guide you. Let her know we need to buy an island or something. She'll figure it out. I've got a few things to take care of right now that can't be postponed."

"Sure, Tony," Bruce said.

"Thank you, Man of Iron."

Tony knew that Thor knew his name, though he wouldn't lie and say he minded the names he came up with.

"Would that make me the Man of Spiders?" Peter whispered curiously to Tony who smiled in response.

"Take Loki with you, I don't trust him out of your sight," Tony told Thor who nodded in agreement.

"I feel like this is where I'm meant to make my entrance," Loki spoke loudly to gain their attention and basked in it. He stood at the base of the spaceship where he hadn't been moments earlier, Tony was fairly certain.

"Go on, I don't want to have to deal with that one." Tony waved them off, ignoring Loki knowing that would be the best way to insult him.

Peter had never met Loki and decided now wasn't the best time and avoided his gaze. There was something about the word 'god' that was a bit terrifying.

"Let's go, brother!" Thor called out to him.

Loki huffed and walked towards them, aiming to follow Thor, Bruce, and Valkyrie into the building.

They walked by them as Tony looked down at Peter and said softly, "we can ask them about this Thanos alien later."

Peter hadn't realized he was shaking; residual adrenalin running through him. He looked terrible and he had no way of knowing it. There were circles under his eyes and his shoulders were drooping. The cloak on his shoulders was too large for him and made him look too small. The evidence of his crying was written all over his face and would remain there for probably another hour until his speedy healing would wash it all away.

Everything was loud. It was easy to focus on individual people when they were speaking, but the lapses between words when his hearing would start to expand to the smaller sounds made his head hurt.

"Okay," he agreed.

Now didn't seem the right time, but again it wasn't in his control it seemed as the cloak unwrapped from around him and moved to be in his sights.

This caught the attention of the departing people who turned back to them.

"A flying cloak?" Bruce asked, not even surprised anymore.

It bobbed around, the edges moving frantically in various gestures. No one else knew what that meant, but Peter had had long enough to create a sort of sign language with the cloak to have some way of communicating with it. He watched and heard the words it wanted to say.

"I don't... I don't remem-" Peter cut himself off, growing to hate that word and beginning to think that maybe he did remember what the cloak was trying to tell him.

It was blurry. Those last few.. days? weeks? minutes? They were all a blur of darkness. The warmth of the cloak. Stars. Nothingness.

"Oh... Yeah, that, I do..."

He and the cloak didn't have much need for words, having grown to understand each other in a way none of the adults around them could follow.

"Is he talking to the cloak?" Valkyrie asked. She was a bit amused by the earthling's antics, and mildly concerned that this might be normal.

Stephen watched the exchange curiously; he had never managed much form of conversation with the cloak other than the occasional mutual understanding of common gestures.

Tony didn't answer Valkyrie, because he wasn't sure if that was the case, and if it was, he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that out loud.

After a bit more of an exchange, Peter turned away from the cloak and smiled up at Tony, "Sorry about that."

Tony only smiled back, trying not to look worried.

Peter turned away from him and looked, oddly enough, at the god of mischief, "Um, Mr. Loki, sir?"

Everyone stared at them in curiousity wondering what the following exchange would be.

"Boy," Loki acknowledged.

Peter took a cautious step forward away from Tony and towards Loki; the cloak wrapped back around his shoulders in what was for comfort but made him look young, and he held out his hand, palm upwards.

"I've been tasked with the protection of the Space Stone. So. Please give it to me." Peter met his gaze and held his breath, hoping he'd sounded confident.

He was tired. This wasn't what he wanted to be doing, but if Loki left with Thor, when would he next see him? And would the Stone be safe in that time?

Loki's eyebrow raised and he appeared unimpressed with his efforts, "I have no idea what you're talking about, nor will I be taking orders from a child," he scoffed.

Peter remembered the whispers, soft words coming to mind as if he were thinking them himself. The words had extinguished all other thoughts and had brought forth a peace he hadn't felt in however long. An ending to his personal hell he hadn't know was approaching.

"You call it the Tesseract," the voice had told him, "It's one of the Infinity Stones, and it isn't safe with you."

Next to Loki, Peter saw Thor turn to his brother with an exasperated look on his face.

"Brother, tell me you didn't."

Loki shrugged, "And you'd believe this boy? What does he know of anything?"

Thor pointed at Peter, "You think that face capable of lying? Show me the Tesseract."

Peter's hand stayed frozen in the air, waiting.

With a sigh, Loki drew a glowing blue box from the folds of his coat, previously hidden by magic. It floated a couple inches over his hand.

"That can't be on Earth, you'll attract all sorts of things we aren't equipped to handle," Stephen snapped.

"Loki, how could you? What were you planning to do with it?" Thor had never managed to sound angry at his brother no matter how much he'd deserve it.

Tony rubbed a hand over his temple and prayed this would end soon.

Completely unashamed, Loki said, "It was right there."

Thor looked at Peter, "The Tesseract is too dangerous for a mundane to handle, but I assure you I will bring it somewhere safe and out of my brother's hands. Thank you for letting me know."

He reached for the Tesseract, Loki didn't even bother denying him, but Peter stopped him with a shout, "Wait! You can't, I'm sorry. It's my duty to protect it, I have to be the one to see it safe," he insisted, not sure if they were his words or those of the voice.

It was both; he was compelled to protect that Stone because it was now his duty, but also because he couldn't bear the thought of someone else finishing what Thanos had started. He couldn't go back there. He couldn't.

"It's really far too dangerous," Thor repeated.

His vision blurred in a way that hadn't happened since he'd first gotten his powers. After he'd settled into them, he'd grown used to the way things would slow around him when the battle would take off; his brain could process his next few steps and he'd have time to spare before having to move.

This was that feeling, but in a way that was as unsettling as day one post spider bite.

Around him, things had slowed to a crawl; he looked over his shoulder at Dr. Strange, who stood with his arms crossed and a cross expression on his face, and could look back forward with no time having yet passed. Tony had an uneasy frown on his face that would fade away if Tony could see that Peter was looking at him. He couldn't, and Peter took in the vulnerability that he often didn't get to see.

His heart clenched, his stomach knotted. This bad feeling wouldn't go away, and now Tony was worried about him. He thought he'd be his saving grace but he was even more in the dark about everything that had happened. He should have kept it to himself. Should have taken the time to observe.

Thor was turning towards Loki with his hands still outstretched towards the Tesseract; the edges of his face and arm were hazy as the milliseconds passed.

Peter made his choice, knowing he had to, despite the warnings.

He drew back his sleeve, no one else quick enough to see the movement, and his fingers on his extended hand clenched down to activate the web shooter he kept strapped to his wrist beneath the sweater.

The thin string of web flew out and latched onto the side of the Tesseract, or as Peter knew it, the Space Stone.

As he tugged his arm to draw it to him, everything suddenly began to speed up once more and everyone could see time move again.

Thor's arm reached out to grab it, but Peter was faster.

"No!"

In the second of fear that lasted between the tug and the Tesseract landing in his hand, Peter looked to Tony for strength.

He was the hero who'd fixed everything Thanos had broken; the least Peter could do was ensure that work hadn't been for nothing.

When it neared, his fingers curled around the glowing blue box and the world exploded.

At least, it felt that way. It was worse than the pain of being torn into dust and reformed inside the Soul Stone, but no worse than the misery of loneliness. The power of the Stone carved its way into his hand and up his arms, digging into his veins and spreading through his body like venom.

His vision blackened and then brightened, feeling like he was staring straight into the depths of a blue sun. He didn't know it, but he was glowing. An ethereal shimmer appeared around him and his eyes shone with that same blue light.

It was too painful even to scream.

His feet lifted from the ground, hovering an inch as the power of the Stone repelled everything, even gravity. It was as though his blood was freezing, turning his body into a block of ice. It burned through every part of him down to the molecule.

His mind blanked, time became nothing. All he could feel was his right hand, wrapped tight around the Stone. It tore at him, turning his insides into ash; again... again... not again...

In that moment of nothingness where he wondered if he might die for real this time, if that voice had overestimated him... There was a different voice, deeper and familiar, calling for him.

"Peter!"

It burst through the light, through the pain, through the silence that had wrapped itself around him.

His feet touched the ground and the light faded.

His body was his own once again, the Stone in his hand now a regular rock waiting to be put to use, deeming Peter Parker strong enough to wield it.

When his knees buckled, Tony was there to catch him. His left hand fisted into his shirt, the right remained clasped around the stone. He was sobbing again.

"You're alright, you're alright,"

Peter shook his head and wailed, "No! Please no, never say that again, please don't... I can't, I can't, don't let it take me away again."

Tony was startled by the outburst but pushed that back in favour of comforting his broken child. He wrapped his arms around Peter and held him against his chest. Carefully, he lowered them to the ground as Peter was too weak to carry himself. He rocked them gently, shushing and whispering, hoping it would be enough.

He wanted to call May; she was the one who should be here. He wasn't made for this. A part of him knew this was out of her depth too.

"I'm here, Pete, I'm right here," he pet his hair and rubbed his back.

Looking up he saw Stephen watching them with a sympathy in his gaze Tony pretended not to see. His cloak was still wrapped around Peter and hadn't been affected by the outpouring of power. His roof, however, had a few scorch marks that hadn't been there before.

Everyone was giving them a minute, and Tony appreciated it though wasn't fond of having an audience in the first place.

Once Peter had grown calmer, enough for his sobs to have quieted at least, Thor approached and knelt by them.

He spoke softly, "Your son is incredibly powerful to have survived the full force of the Tesseract. Or Space Stone, I believe he called it. That he isn't dead means he will heal, he will be able to wield it without it causing him any more harm."

Tony swallowed, his throat dry. His eyes were shiny from unshed tears and Thor gave him the courtesy of ignoring it, "Good. Now, obviously, I have a child to take care of, so how about we get this thing off this planet?"

"I don't think it wise to deny his request. He said this was his duty, and to have survived means it must be so."

Tony pressed his cheek to the top of Peter's head and stared at Thor unblinkingly, "How long until someone realizes this thing is here?"

"You have time, I promise. You've been relatively safe with two, a third isn't good but shouldn't attract attention for a few days at the very least."

"Two?"

"The one currently in your friend Vision, and mine," Stephen answered for him.

"For fuck's sake... Alright. You guys go off to Pepper. I've got Peter," he looked up at Stephen, "You can go with them if you want to babysit Loki, uh, Strange, was it?"

"Doctor Stephen Strange," he introduced himself, "and unless the boy objects, I'd like to stay near my cloak."

The man wasn't friendly by any means, but he was quiet and Peter liked him, so Tony nodded.

Thor stood and returned to the others. Tony didn't look back at them. There was a sense of respect over what Peter had accomplished, but he knew there was pity and he didn't want it. Knew Peter wouldn't accept it.

Bruce pressed a soft hand to his shoulder, "We'll head in now. Let me know if you want to talk later."

"Alright," he said.

He heard their retreating steps and breathed a long sigh. There was still the Doctor and the sentient Cloak, but he cared little about their opinions. He pressed his forehead to the top of Peter's head and whispered, "I don't know what to do, Pete, I'm sorry. Tell me how to take care of you."

When there was no response as Peter seemed to have fallen asleep, or at least he hoped it was sleep, Tony kissed his hair and prayed for a solution.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness. Thank you all so much for the kind words for the first chapter and for all the kuddos! I'm really happy that people are enjoying this story as much as I'm loving writing it.
> 
> Now let's see what's going on with our sweet boy.

A couple of minutes passed in perfect silence, but his knees were growing weary and Peter needed a proper place to lie down. Tony shuffled, trying to wrap his arms around him but wasn't at the best angle to do so.

"Let me help," Stephen offered,

His hands glowed and Peter began to hover. Tony slowly stood, bringing Peter with him. It was as though he was weightless on the moon, and he could pull him along effortlessly. He moved one arm beneath his knees and the other behind his back, and Stephen released his magic to let Peter settle heavily in his arms.

"Thanks, Doc."

He lead them to his quarters and laid Peter down on the living room sofa. He curled into the headrest and the cloak spread across him like a blanket. Tony sat at his feet and Stephen took the adjacent recliner. His back was ramrod straight and his hands were clasped in his lap.

"So," Tony started, "you have one of these things too?" He pointed vaguely towards the Stone still clenched tightly in Peter's hand.

"Yes, the Time Stone," his moved his glowing hands in front of the necklace draped over his chest; its front opened to reveal a green stone. He shut it after a quick second, "I can control it to a certain extent, but I've never attempted to hold it in my bare hands. Thor was right, your son is quite powerful. Stupid, mind you, but powerful."

Tony sent him a withering glare, "I wish I could disagree, but he's prone to being reckless and I can't seem to shake that out of him. And just to clarify, he isn't my son. He's my... intern."

That sounded lame, even to himself.

Stephen's stare didn't give much away, but Tony couldn't help but feel judged.

"He's a great kid. The best and brightest I've ever met."

"Yes, and a little confused it seems." Stephen knew better than to ruffle feathers when it came to someone's child and was trying his best to play nice.

"So you really don't know him at all?"

"No, I've never met him."

"And have you heard of someone named Thanos? Peter was mentioning him earlier."

Stephen shook his head, "I haven't. What else has he told you? It's very odd that the Cloak would know him and I don't."

Tony leaned back and shared what he knew, "From what I gather he seems to think, and I have no reason not to believe him, that today is repeating itself. But differently to the first time. Apparently, on the first go-around the three, or four," he eyed the cloak, "of us ended up in space fighting someone named Thanos who wanted to collect all of these Stones."

"And he... failed?" Stephen ventured a guess.

"He succeeded, actually. He got all the Stones and destroyed half the universe for whatever terrible reason. Peter thinks I somehow fixed this, though I can't begin to imagine how, and the day started all over again as if nothing happened. And nothing is happening; at least not the way he remembers it."

"That's..." Stephen sat back in the recliner, unable to keep the rigid pose any longer, "You could restart a day with the Time Stone, but to restore half the universe and remove this Thanos figure entirely? That would have to be the power of all the Stones combined."

"And that isn't everything. He said something about being trapped inside one of these Stone things. I think... I think it did a number on him."

"I see. I'm afraid I'm not that kind of doctor. Or sorcerer."

They both sat in silence for a brief moment, and before either of them could speak, a soft, "Knock, knock," was heard.

There was a soft rap against wood and Tony turned towards the living room entrance. Pepper stood there in her work clothes holding a mug, one hand up to knock against the side of the entryway to alert her presence.

"Sorry to interrupt," she stepped into the room, high heels quieted by the carpet, "I've got Friday searching for an island; Thor says the Asgardians are good hunters and foragers and shouldn't have any problems surviving in that kind of environment. I also let Bruce know his old room was still available. He mentioned what happened with Peter, so I thought I'd pop in and see how he was doing."

She set the mug down on the coffee table where Peter would see it when he woke up, "Tea," she explained, "Caffeine wouldn't do him any good. If I'd known we had company I would have made more, sorry about that. My name's Pepper, would you like some tea or coffee? Tony's a terrible host and will never remember to offer you anything."

Stephen nodded in greeting, "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange, and I'm fine, thank you."

"Have you spoken to May yet?"

"No," Tony sighed, "That's a later problem. She's at work until five, no point worrying her until then."

"Alright. From my understanding, it'll probably be best if they both stay for the weekend. I'll ask Happy to pick her up after work and I'll have him bring her home first to pick up some clothes and Peter's schoolwork. Even if he's sick we all know he'd make himself sicker worrying about homework."

Tony pointed at her and smiled proudly in Stephen's direction, "And that's why she's CEO."

She rolled her eyes but there was a warm smile on her lips. She knelt next to Peter and brushed back his hair, gently kissing his forehead.

He stirred at her touch and mumbled sleepily, "Aunt May...? Wha..."

"Just me, darling," she said.

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her, "Hey, Pepper." He pushed himself into a seated position and looked around the room and took in its occupants. His left hand held the cloak tightly, and in his right, the Space Stone dug into his fingers from his unrelenting grip.

"Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling?"

"It's fine. I'm fine." He was met with three looks of disbelief and he sighed, "Frankly, I would have preferred being hit by a semi truck, but I'll be alright."

Pepper brushed back his hair and stood, "I have to get back to work, but I'll see you later tonight. You boys take care."

With that she made her exit, having come to say what needed to be said and getting to see Peter with her own eyes. She was worried. She'd make sure to call May personally later.

Peter let go of the cloak and cupped his hands in front of his chest, looking down at what now seemed to be just any regular old rock with a slight blue sheen.

"I'm really sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to freak out like that," he mumbled.

Tony scooted closer and placed his arm on the back of the couch behind Peter, "Hey, don't worry about that, alright? You're under a lot of stress, these things happen. Take it from someone who knows."

Peter leaned against Tony and pulled the cloak up to his shoulders as if it were a blanket and it played along. Stephen watched it, no less confused about their relationship than earlier.

"Is there anything on the news?" He asked.

"Fri?"

"Other than Thor's arrival, there have been no other known sightings of spacecrafts."

"Looks like we're in the clear, kiddo," Tony ruffled his hair and smiled.

It hadn't even been an hour since Peter had shown up with red-rimmed eyes. May had eight hours of work ahead of her. His mind counted the minutes and wondered how to pass the time without making anything worse.

"I'd like to make an offer, if I may," Stephen said.

"Thought you said you weren't that kind of doctor?" Tony quipped and Peter huffed a laugh.

"I'm not, there's nothing I can do to help on that front, but I do have magic," he looked at Peter, the young boy's eyes wide with trust, "What I'd like to do is access your memories and view them to better understand this situation. Through them, I may be able to assess what kind of magic you were confronted with and I can also show them to Stark. He could use them to better understand your psychological needs."

Peter frowned, "I don't have psychological needs. I'm fine. Today's just been tough, but I'm good. Right now, all I want is to make sure Thanos isn't coming back. Would looking at my memories help with that?"

"It could," Stephen said.

"Then let's do it. How does it work?"

"Hold on a second, is now really the right time for this? Maybe we should do this tomorrow, or in a few days when you're feeling better," Tony said.

"I'd rather get it over with," Peter admitted, "Then I won't have to think about it anymore."

Tony wasn't the person to ask when it came to healthy coping mechanisms, but that fell into repression territory and he knew plenty about that.

"I don't know that..." he wanted to reason with him, but Peter was looking up at him expectantly and his words trailed off.

"It's completely safe, and it'll let you know exactly what's happened without him needing to draw up those memories. It might take a while before he can talk about everything in detail, and right now understanding is more important."

Tony wasn't convinced that that was more important, but Peter clearly did and Tony agreed that he wanted to know.

"Fine. How does it work?" He repeated Peter's earlier question.

"I'll use a completely harmless spell to access his memories and I'll be able to display them in front of us. It'll be like watching television."

"And what about Peter? Will he be asleep or is this going to make him relive all this bullshit?"

Stephen shook his head, "No, he'll be conscious, but he'll be watching it the same way as us," he looked at Peter, "Although, if you prefer, I could put you to sleep for however long it takes us to go through everything."

"No, I want to see too. I don't know how much I've forgotten, and I want to know what you guys will know. Can we do it now?"

Peter took up the tea and drank it slowly. It was still warm and helped ease some of the strain he was feeling. He had to know. Had to see. If Dr. Strange could do this for him, he had to accept.

"Yes, if you're well enough."

"I am."

He moved his legs to the floor to give room for Stephen to sit next to him to perform the spell.

"If at any point you need a break let me know and we can stop."

"Okay," Peter put down the mug and started fiddling with the Space Stone. He could feel its power in the same way he could sometimes hear Aunt May humming while climbing the stairs to their apartment. Faint, distant, cozy; a promise.

Tony ruffled his hair again and they shared a smile.

Stephen placed a hand over Peter's forehead and whispered the spell, his hand glowing, and a light burst from the center of his forehead and stopped a few feet in front of them. There it remained, a projection of his memories. Stephen removed his hand and in it was a red disc of light that was used to control the spell. His hand rotated counterclockwise, like lowering the volume on a stereo, and time flowed backward in the projection.

He went too quick for them to understand the images flickering across the square of light, noise garbled like rewinding on an old VCR. He stopped on the correct date; as the owner of the spell and master of time, Stephen could tell where they were in the memories, could give it a date and time if he needed to pull that information.

The projection was showing things from Peter's point of view and paused on him looking out of the bus window towards a flying spaceship.

"This was this morning," he said, "I was on my way to the field trip."

Tony remained quiet, entranced by what could have been; what had been until he'd fixed it, somehow. Stephen played the memory and they watched in silence as Peter slipped into the Spider-Man suit and swung off to help Tony fight an oversized alien and chase after the wizard, as Tony had called Dr. Strange.

His left hand began to ache as he saw himself get Peter off the spaceship only for Peter to cling to it and climb aboard it anyways. They saved Stephen with his _Aliens_ plan and Tony made him an Avenger.

"If I hadn't stayed on the ship, I would have died alone. It would have been worse," Peter said softly.

He was easing him into what was coming, trying to reassure him before he could start blaming himself all over again.

They landed the ship, they met the Guardians, they fought Thanos and lost.

Then Peter was dying.

Through his eyes, Tony saw himself. Heard himself say the words he'd said to Peter earlier, ' _You're alright_ '. Beside him, Peter was shaking. He took his hand and this time said, "I'm here."

He'd never tell Tony how much it had hurt to die, to be torn apart and to have his soul dragged away against his will.

In the image, Peter whispered, ' _I'm sorry_ ' and then it went black.

Stephen moved his hand clockwise, shifting forward through time until spots of light appeared in the darkness as Peter, in the memory, was opening his eyes.

Peter from the past looked around, taking in his surroundings. All to be seen was darkness with stars in the distance as if he were floating in space. His voice echoed as he called out for Tony, for Dr. Strange. Saying ' _hello_ ' into the emptiness. His vision adjusted, slowly, and some of the nearer stars came into focus, and they weren't stars at all, but people. Sleeping, it seemed.

He approached one; it was the lady alien that had fought with them on Titan and her eyes were shut and she was breathing softly. Peter poked her arm and she drifted off.

"What is this?" Tony asked.

"Just wait," Peter replied, knowing, of course, what was coming.

He continued to wander, walking or floating, those watching couldn't tell. There wasn't a ground or a ceiling. There were others around him from their fight on Titan and then plenty of strangers. After, perhaps, a minute of wandering he was found by a conscious Dr. Strange.

" _Dr. Strange! What's wrong with everyone? Where are we?_ "

" _I believe we're inside the Soul Stone. I can't say for certain, but I think they've been rendered unconscious by the strength of the Stone. They were awake for a brief minute before you joined us._ "

" _Oh. Are you okay because you're magic?_ "

" _I can only assume so._ "

" _And me? Why am I okay?_ "

" _Perhaps the same reason it took you so long to join us._ "

They stayed together and wandered through the empty space in search of anyone else who might be awake. There was no one; just weightless bodies floating around, gleaming in the distance like stars but not.

They talked. Peter couldn't stop and Stephen filled in the gaps.

" _You said there was only one time where we won, can you tell me about it?_ "

" _I suppose I can. The Time Stone allowed me to look at possible futures, but with our time constraints, I only looked at things through my own eyes, as that's a lot easier. Stark's survival was key; as was you and I being here. He will save you, I promise you that. I don't know how long it'll take, but eventually, our souls will be freed. All we can do now is endure._ "

" _Can you tell how much time is passing? It feels like its been hours._ "

" _I'm afraid not._ "

From the outside, the Stephen who was controlling the speed of these memories knew how long was passing. Could know how many hours and days they spent wandering. His hand moved clockwise, moving through time and flashing through conversations.

Through Peter's eyes, Stephen could see himself growing weary. Frustrated. Sad. Lonely. The Peter in that time was trying to be positive; telling jokes and stories and pulling stories from Stephen in turn.

Now, he sped through the minutes wondering exactly how long they were in that Stone.

They didn't need to sleep or eat or drink. Peter would blink and suddenly time passed as if he'd faded from consciousness for no reason other than boredom.

Eventually, Peter opened his eyes and Stephen didn't.

The Cloak in the memory flitted around him trying to wake him to no avail. Peter poked his arm, shook him, called his name, but Stephen would not wake again. For the first time in the memories, Peter cried.

The current Stephen felt sorry for the Peter in the memory, now alone with only a sentient cloak for company. How much more time? His heart ached at the sight of a grieving Peter and his hand moved clockwise and the images moved.

Time passed; Peter and Cloakie, what the cloak had accepted as its name, were traveling aimlessly, talking in a language they were creating for themselves as a way to keep sane.

His hand moved further clockwise.

"How long does this last?" Tony asked.

Stephen moved his hand even further clockwise. The images blurred together.

Suddenly, a high pitched noise emitted from the images and Stephen stopped, letting it play at normal speed. The noise didn't stop and the images were hazy from Peter's own memory. He was speaking, but the noise was garbled.

"What's going on?" Tony snapped, worried by the oddness of what they were seeing.

It was Peter who answered, voice soft, "You're not allowed to hear this part."

"What? Why? What is this?"

Tony moved his eyes from the projection back to Peter and his heart hurt to see the trail of tears down his cheeks. He didn't know how long he'd been silently crying; he wasn't sure if Peter was even aware it was happening.

"The Stone is talking to me," he answered.

They were hearing white noise, but Peter could hear its voice. It was the voice of the first soul trapped in the Stone. Revisiting this memory was what he'd needed; now he remembered what he'd been told. Now he knew why he was the one to remember.

"I should wake up not long after this."

Stephen's hand moved and shortly after Peter was opening his eyes and was sitting up in his own bedroom as if none of that had ever happened.

He stopped the spell; the projection faded and the disc in his hand disappeared. He moved further down the couch to give Peter some space. He understood now why the cloak was so taken with him as well as Peter's behaviour that day.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked Peter, voice gentle.

"I'm fine." He wiped away the traces of tears and tried to smile.

Remembering all of that hurt and seeing it was worse. He was tired of the darkness and tired of the silence.

"Can you figure out how long he spent in that Stone? How long it took for me to get him out?"

"I already know," Stephen said. His eyes shone with sadness as he looked at Peter, "We were together for three months before I succumbed to the power of the Stone. Then you and the cloak were on your own for nineteen months."

"Oh," Peter whispered. He fell heavier against Tony. "That's.. a long time."

It was quiet for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Peter." Tony pulled him into a hug. His left hand hurt.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," Peter pushed him back, hoping his smile was reassuring, "I remember everything the Soul Stone told me, and I know Thanos isn't coming back. That's all I wanted to know, and now we can move on from this."

"I don't know that it'll be that easy," Tony said, "But we can try."

He looked at his watch and saw that nearly four hours had passed. It had taken a while to get through all those memories, but now he knew the truth and that's what he needed to take care of Peter. The _how_ was missing, but it was a start.

"Please don't blame yourself, Mr. Stark," Peter pleaded, "It had to happen this way."

"But _why_?" Tony asked, "Why were you awake that whole time and no one else was? And why are you the only person that remembers?"

"I..." Peter didn't meet his gaze, "I don't know. I don't want to think about it anymore."

For the time being, Tony let that settle as a response.

Peter removed the cloak from around him and held it out to Stephen, "Thank you for the spell. I'm sure you have important magic things to do, so here's Cloakie. I should be getting home anyway."

Stephen didn't grab it right away, gaze wandering to Tony to gauge his thoughts.

"Actually, I was thinking you should stay for the weekend. May will be coming by after work to stay, too."

Peter glared, letting the cloak fall into his lap, "I don't need you to babysit me! I'm fine."

He was never a difficult teenager and Tony had learned to manage the occasional moody moments, and said to pacify him, "I'm not saying you do. But humour me? For just a couple of days."

He huffed, "Fine. But I'm not keeping Cloakie hostage, so here. I'm sure you have better things to do than play babysitter." For a second time, Peter took up the cloak and held it out to Stephen.

"I may not have all the memories you do, Peter, but I know that your well-being is important to me. The cloak will stay," Stephen stood, and the cloak remained clutched in Peter's grasp, "It'll return to me when the time is right. For now, I'll go back to the sanctuary. If I'm needed feel free to call." His hand glowed briefly and in it appeared a slip of paper with his phone number. He placed it on the table.

"Thanks, Dr. Strange."

He left in a shimmery portal of gold and red magic in the same way he had arrived earlier that morning. Peter watched him go and pulled the cloak closer to him. He shivered, a sense of loneliness washing over him at seeing Stephen leave again.

"Wanna go out for some lunch?" Tony said as a peace offering.

Peter hesitated, "I think I'd rather stay in, to be honest."

"Ordering in it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker is my sweet boy and I love him.
> 
> I don't know how long this story will be. Maybe 2 more chapters, I'm not sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting longer than I thought, I'm just having a lot of fun writing this.
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments, I love hearing your thoughts!

At five o'clock on the dot, Pepper called May.

"Happy is waiting for you outside," she said after their greetings. "He'll stop at your place so you can grab a few things and then bring you over for the weekend. Did you have any plans?"

"No, I didn't, but what's going on? Is this about Peter? He was acting really strange this morning."

"I'm afraid so. I don't have all the details, but I know he isn't well. Tony will tell you more when you see him."

"Thanks, Pepper. I'll see you soon."

Happy opened the passenger door for her as she stepped out of the building. He was friendlier than usual which told her he had some ideas about the situation. She didn't ask for details, wanting Tony, or Peter himself, to tell her what was going on.

It was no ordinary cold or flu; those she was plenty familiar with and could spot them coming days ahead.

At home, she packed an overnight bag full enough to last her the next two nights and grabbed Peter's schoolbag off his bedroom floor. She thought he'd gone to school, but wasn't surprised to find he hadn't.

The ride to the tower was long in the middle of rush hour, and May passed the time by swapping stories with Happy. He hm'ed and ah'ed at the appropriate times and she took no offense to his seeming disinterest.

"Here we go, May. Hope the kid feels better soon."

Over the past two years, and after discovering Peter's superhero alter-ego, she and Tony had grown to be good friends in their mutual love for him. The tower had become familiar and Friday greeted her at the elevator entrance. She rode up to Tony's floor and stepped off and searched for her nephew.

"Hey, May," Tony greeted her.

He looked tired; similar to the way her sister-in-law had looked after staying up all night by Peter's side the first time he'd run a fever.

"Tony! Where's Peter?" She asked. He was usually next to Tony with that unrelenting admiration in his eyes, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

"He's taking a nap. Pepper's making coffee, we can chat in the living room."

She followed him and sat on the recliner as he sat on the sofa. Pepper quickly joined them while balancing three mugs in her hands. She set them down and greeted May.

"It's good to see you, May."

"I wish the circumstances were better, but things are never simple with the Parkers," Pepper matched her smile.

"I'll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything."

"You don't have to go," May said. She knew how Pepper sometimes felt like the third wheel in their strange little family, May the caretaker and Tony the father figure, but she was as invested in Peter's wellbeing as they were and she tried to get her to accept her own role as best as she could. "I get the feeling this is a three-man job."

"If you're sure," Pepper said hesitantly, taking a seat next to Tony.

"Of course I am. Now, Tony, what's going on with our boy?"

His eyes closed for a moment and he leaned back against the sofa; his entire body screamed fatigue.

"This is... complicated. Physically he's fine. Completely healthy."

"So this is something psychological," May guessed, "I know this is the stereotypical response, but he was fine just yesterday."

"He was. He is. Something... new has happened."

With a sigh, he explained everything that he knew about the situation. How Peter was reliving this day, how a whole other timeline where he had died was reversed and prevented. How he had been trapped in darkness for nearly two years only to be told no one else could remember that time at all.

May and Pepper sat quietly as he spoke, sipping their coffee and sharing looks of worry. When he finished, they still didn't say anything, absorbing the information. Tony saw the tears welling up in May's eyes and hoped she wouldn't cry because he wasn't sure he wouldn't if she started.

She resolutely held them back, "I can imagine that today's been difficult for him. To adjust, I mean."

Tony nodded, "It has been," he said, "he's saying he's fine, of course, but you can tell he isn't."

"How can we help him?" Pepper asked, "It's not like we can send him off to some therapist to talk about this with."

"That's the big question, and I have no idea," Tony said honestly.

"I suppose this'll be a one day at a time thing. I'll try to get him to talk to me about it and see what he needs from there. This isn't exactly the sort of thing you can Google," May said, sounding confident in that decision.

"Will that be enough?" Pepper asked.

"For now it'll have to be."

"Boss," Friday interrupted, voice alarmed, "You need to go to Peter immediately. He appears to be experiencing a distressing nightmare."

There wasn't a need for any of them to say anything; the three adults immediately rushed to Peter's bedroom, a couple doors down from Tony's with its lights already turned on, and they stopped in the doorway taking in what they found.

Peter's eyes were closed and he was thrashing in the bed in the throes of a nightmare. There was sweat across his forehead and the front of his shirt was damp. The blankets were curled around him but torn in places where Peter had pulled too hard. He wasn't in control of his powers so deep in sleep. The cloak floated above his body, trying to wrap around him in comfort but apparently knowing not to get too close.

"Stay here. He's too out of it to control his powers, if he hits you you're a goner."

May and Pepper knew to take the words seriously and anxiously hovered at the doorway. Seeing her baby like this released the tears, and she was grateful to have Pepper by her side to hold her. She wished she could go to Peter as she had always done for him in the past, but there was too great a risk.

Tony cautiously approached him. He activated the Iron Man gauntlet on his right hand as the only form of protection he had against Peter's super strength.

He spoke, first, "Pete, kiddo, it's me. Can you hear me?"

His eyes flew open, but he stared around frantically as if unseeing. He was still lost in his nightmare, but his lips parted and he started to speak. He was begging. He saw nothing but that darkness and those neverending stars.

"Please don't let it take me, please... I can't. Please. I don't wanna go back there." His words blended together and became a nonstop repetition of the same request.

"It's okay, Peter, it's me. You gotta listen, alright? You're home, you're safe. I promise," he stood by the bed and cautiously placed a hand on his forehead. He was trying to stay by his head and away from his flailing arms, but at the touch, Peter flinched back in fear and Tony had to pull back again to avoid being hit.

Peter sat up and placed his head in his hands, rocking back and forth while muttering to himself. His face was wet from tears and sweat, and his cheeks were flushed bright.

Tony continued to speak to him, voice soft and firm trying to get through the wall of fear surrounding Peter. It didn't seem to be doing any good. Peter appeared to be under the impression he wasn't real, from what he could gather of his mumbling, and that was as worrisome as the rest of this.

He moved his gauntlet next to Peter's arms to catch them if he should try to hit him again, and he put his other hand on his back to try and gain his attention.

He managed to catch Peter's hand when it flew out, but the strength still caught him by surprise and he had to take a few steps back.

"Please leave me alone... You're not real, you're not real, you're not real..." Peter slid off the bed and onto the floor. The cloak draped over his shoulders and he didn't draw back nor did Peter even seem to notice it.

"What do we do?" May asked. Her words were watery. She couldn't stand to see her nephew like this but couldn't tear her eyes away.

In the matter of one second to another Peter shifted from incoherent muttering to loud screaming. He pushed away the cloak that flew off before it could get hurt and his foot kicked out, hitting the side of the bed and breaking right through the frame. It fell apart and Peter didn't notice, still trapped in his own mind.

"Peter!" Tony slid in behind him on the floor. He wrapped his arms around him, managing to cross his arms and use the hand with the gauntlet to press them tight against his chest to keep them constricting. He was on his knees and out of reach of his kicking legs.

He waited him out, wincing in pain at the sound coming out of his throat. It was a sound borne of trauma and Tony knew he'd never heard anything like it before. He didn't know if he should leave him be, you were supposed to do that with people experiencing seizures, right? Was this different? But Peter was too out of it and Tony couldn't take the risk of him hurting himself. A few well-aimed limbs and he could be launching himself out of the window or crashing through the floor.

"I'm here, I'm right here. I promise I'm real. Come back to us, Pete, you can do it."

The screaming didn't last long, but then it was choked sobs and Peter was still fighting against his hold. It wasn't at his full strength, luckily, but Tony was growing tired.

When a red and gold portal appeared in the bedroom, Tony recognized it and was grateful for it. Stephen stepped through and his cloak wrapped around his shoulders in greeting.

"About time you joined us," Tony's words came out strained from the effort of holding Peter in place. "Got any suggestions?"

Without wasting a moment for words, Stephen held out his hand and it sparkled for a moment and suddenly Peter fell back, completely unconscious. Tony moved him until his head was in his lap and let the gauntlet retract.

"What did you do?" May asked. She stepped further into the room, wanting to go to Peter but not certain it was safe yet.

"I put him back to sleep. Try to wake him in a few minutes and see if he's settled."

"You must be Dr. Strange," she held her hand out for him, "I'm May Parker, Peter's aunt."

He shook her hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Tony told me about everything. Thank you for looking after him."

She didn't expect a response and moved on to Peter. She knelt by him and Tony and ran her fingers through his hair. She wiped away the tears on his cheeks and ignored her own.

"What do we do?" She repeated her earlier question. "What can we do?"

"I don't know."

She saw dark circles under Peter's eyes that hadn't been there just the day before. He was dressed in soft pajamas, his left hand rested loosely on the ground and his right was clutched tight. May reached for it, wanting to soothe away the stress, but Tony stopped her.

"He's still holding onto the Stone," he explained, "he hasn't decided what to do with it yet."

"Oh. Right."

Tony looked up at Stephen and asked, "How'd you know to come?"

"Your AI sent me a message."

"Thanks, Friday,"

"You're welcome, boss."

The room grew silent as they waited for Peter to wake. May brushed his hair back and whispered softly to him. Pepper stood by the doorway and Stephen remained close by. None of them knew what to expect when he woke up again.

After a few minutes, his eyes flickered open and latched onto her's, "Aunt May...?"

"It's me, baby," she leaned down and kissed his forehead. His clothes were damp from sweat, but his colour had returned to normal and he seemed dazed. "How are you feeling?"

"M'fine," he mumbled. He pushed himself into a seated position, pulling off Tony's lap, and he looked around the room curiously. "Hello...?"

It took a minute for the recent events to catch up to him, but when they did his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. He began to shake and he fell forward into his aunt's embrace, burying his face in her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

She wrapped her arms around him and Tony reached forward to rub his back in soothing circles. She said softly, "It's okay, baby, it's okay. No one's upset. We're just worried about you, that's all."

"What's wrong with me?" He whispered only loud enough for her to hear.

"Nothing's wrong with you."

"Doesn't feel that way."

She pressed her hands against his shoulders until he sat up to meet her gaze. He was clearly miserable and embarrassed, and she smiled, "I larb you," she joked.

He smiled weakly, "Larb you too."

The cloak left Stephen and settled on his shoulders. He gripped the edges and pulled it firmly around himself, "Hey Cloakie."

In an effort to cheer him up, much as it had done for him within the Stone, it levitated him off the floor and floated too high for his feet to touch the ground. He giggled and after a moment it lowered him just enough for him to stand. It was one of the only ways it knew how to pull him out of his thoughts and get him back on his feet.

May and Tony followed after him, getting to their feet and hovering close by.

"Why don't you guys head off to the living room? We can order in some garbage and watch some movies," Tony offered.

May quickly agreed, "That sounds fair. Come on," she wrapped her arm around Peter and lead him out of the room, Pepper following close behind. He didn't protest, going without a word.

Tony released a sigh and turned to Stephen, "Is there anything you can do?"

"I'm not that kind-"

"Of Doctor, I know. Neither am I. But you're all magical and shit. Can't you... I don't know, make him forget everything?"

"I did consider that," Stephen admitted, "But it's not possible. His memories are locked in tight, possibly by the power of the Stone, and trying to force him to forget could only hurt him further."

"Well, thanks for coming so quickly," Tony hated having to ask, but for Peter, he'd be willing to beg, "Do you think you could stay? In case this happens again? I don't want him hurting himself and I'm no match for his strength outside the suit and trying to use it would just make everything worse."

"I was thinking the same thing."

Tony stopped at the linen closet and he and Stephen grabbed armfuls of spare pillows and blankets. They brought everything to the living room and the adults set about turning the room into a nest of comfort, ignoring Peter's protest about not being a child.

"I'm not a baby, you don't-"

"You're _my_ baby," May countered, throwing a pillow in his lap and leaving a wet kiss on his cheek.

They curled in like overgrown children and Peter insisted that since they were acting like kids they should watch a kids movie. Friday started _The Incredibles_ for them, one of his favourites. Tony popped some popcorn and set a couple bowls down that ended up being tossed around more than eaten.

Peter rested his head on May's shoulder and let his eyes settle on the television. The movie was bright and cheerful, and a direct opposite to how he was feeling and to what his mind was trying to force him to think about. The cloak was draped over him like a blanket and he had an actual blanket on top of it, giving several layers of warmth.

The Stone had been neither cold nor warm, but the thought of being cold made him uneasy.

Stephen offered to make dinner and no one stopped him. There was evidence of discomfort on his face and in the tenseness of his shoulders, that none of them felt the need to force him to join them.

The kitchen was ill-equipped to feed anyone, let alone a group of five. He had to portal a few times to get the ingredients he wanted and set about making a pot of chili.

Everything about the day had gone south. It was nice getting a couple hours to cook in silence, a soothing and thoughtless task.

While going through Peter's memories, he had only shown so much to Tony not wanting to waste time, what with there being twenty-two months worth of memories to go through, but Stephen had absorbed all of it despite not seeing it all. He knew all that had happened in those three months where they were together and the nineteen where they weren't. The only thing he couldn't access was the last few days where the Stone had been talking to Peter.

Stephen was positive he'd known what was going to happen. If he'd looked at so many futures, he would have seen this exact day.

Now in that future, he wondered if he should have warned Peter. Or if that would have only hurt him more.

" _When we get out of here, are we still going to be friends? Or are you going back to the sanctuary to be alone again?_ " Peter had asked him.

" _Of course we'll still be friends, Peter. We'll get through this together._ "

Stephen had never thought much about having children and had never been around them often while growing up. He could guess how he'd been feeling while trapped with only a teenager for company but knew he'd done his best to step up to the plate and be the adult Peter needed him to be.

The only thing that remained a mystery was the _why_. Why, of everyone in the universe, only Peter Parker remembered. He had a feeling that Peter knew, but would refuse to admit it.

" _I think you and Mr. Stark would get along, you know. Outside of this. He's really great._ "

" _Maybe someday we will._ "

He'd always had his own thoughts about Tony Stark, but Peter's stories of love, even hearing them through memories, was hard to ignore. They certainly had an odd relationship; all he had to see was Tony's face as Peter lay dying in his arms to know it went both ways.

" _You had to be here,_ " he'd told Peter when explaining how Tony would come through to save them.

He wondered what it had looked like in the living world; how Tony had gathered the Stones and had the strength to wield them.

He cleaned as he went, hearing the faint hum of the television and its children's movie in the background.

Seeing his own face through Peter's eyes, like a mirror but more honest and shrouded in an admiration he didn't deserve, he had known then and he accepted now that this was going to be his life for a while.

**OoOoO**

Peter held the Stone in his hand, alone as May and Tony spoke in the other room in hushed voices he could hear if he wanted to.

The Soul Stone hadn't told him what to do with it, only that he was meant to keep it safe. What did that mean? How was he supposed to do that?

He looked to Cloakie for advice but was met with a shrug.

"That's not helpful at all," he muttered bitterly.

This was the Space Stone; it could manipulate space and create portals similar to Dr. Strange's magic.

It had to get off Earth, but the hard part was figuring out where to send it. He didn't know space and didn't know a safe place for it. There were so many people who would use its powers for bad things and nothing sped up his heart rate like the thought of someone gathering all of them and redoing what Thanos had done.

He held the Stone and thought, letting its powers wash over him. There was no pain from it, only a sense of strength he didn't want to grow used to. It didn't talk to him like the Soul Stone did, which left him at a loss.

It didn't need to talk. As he thought, he remembered something from a book he loved. A room that appeared when it was needed most. Harry Potter. That's what he needed. A place in space he needed that no living being would ever frequent.

He blinked and suddenly before him was a circular portal, edges blue and shimmering. The Space Stone had given him what he'd asked for.

Trusting the power of the Stone, he put his hand through the portal and dropped it on the other side. He retracted his hand and it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The Stone was gone for good, and if he was lucky, he'd never see it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Please leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly means a lot :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a shorter, filler chappie.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> P.O.W = Prisoner of War

It took two weeks for Tony to cave. While Peter was sequestered away in the lab with Bruce, and Rhodey to supervise, he hid away in his bedroom and dialed the only phone number on the old flip phone he carried with him everywhere.

"Tony?"

It had been a long time since he'd heard Steve Rogers' voice, but that wasn't the person Tony was looking to speak with.

"Yeah, hey, it's me."

"Is everything alright?"

He could imagine the panic on the other end of the phone. He'd always thought nothing less than the end of the world could make him ask for their help, but he was out of his depth and needed the proper guidance. And to be honest, at least to himself, he'd rather face the end of the world than watch Peter suffer any longer.

"Can I talk to Sam?"

There was a pause, "... Sam?"

"Yeah. I need to talk to him."

"Oh. Well, yes, of course. He's here, give me a second." There was a hint of disappointment in his tone that Tony ignored.

The phone was covered and Tony could hear mumbling from the other side, and after a moment it was passed along to Sam Wilson.

"It's me. What's up?"

"Hey, Sam. I, uh, need your help with something."

"Obviously. What's going on? Not the end of the world is it?"

His fist clenched around the phone. He wondered if they were all there, in a room together waiting to see what he had to say. It was a form of silent judgment and he hated it. Did they hate him? Did he hate them?

_Do it for Peter_ , he reminded himself.

"Nothing like that. I need your particular expertise. So, I have a, uh, kid. Not my kid, but ' _a_ ' kid, and he's... not good."

"Not good how?"

"He went through something pretty rough and now..." Tony sighed, "I don't know what to do. I can't exactly Google this shit."

"Is it safe to assume that this something couldn't be handled by a regular therapist?"

"Ding ding ding," he bit his tongue and reminded himself not to take his frustration out on the one person that could help. "That's about it. There is, quite literally, not a single person in the universe that could understand what he's going through right now and I don't know what to do with that."

"That's really rough, I'm sorry, Tony," Sam said sympathetically, "Are you... Is he in your care?"

"Yes and no. He's staying here temporarily, but he has an aunt that loves him to bits and who's here as often as possible."

There was no going back to school for Peter. Nowadays, it was a struggle just to get him out of the Tower; he could hardly stand to be away from either Tony or May for extended periods of time.

Luckily, since he was such a wonderful student and Tony had plenty of influence, they were able to have him finish the last two months of school with at-home work. He would go at the end of the school year to complete his exams after school hours and graduate in time with everyone else.

"We made some arrangements with the school to have him do his work at home and still graduate this year. He hates it, but he has no choice."

"That's great, Tony. Does he have any interest in going to college?"

"The kid's a fucking genius, the smartest kid I've ever met I swear, and he's already been accepted into MIT. I told him before he could skip school and just work for me, but he insists he wants to get into S.I the same way anyone else would."

"Sounds like a good kid."

Tony appreciated the understanding in Sam's tone, that he could tell how important this was to him.

"Alright, now tell me what's going on with him that has you worried."

"That's quite a list."

"I've got time."

"He's barely eating, to start. I've never seen him say no to food before and now it's a chore to get him to have a meal a day. When I ask him about it he says he's just not hungry."

Peter was losing weight quickly and it was worrying all of them. It was as if he'd permanently lost his appetite and he couldn't bring himself to eat more than the bare minimum. Stephen had made the educated guess that since he hadn't eaten for two years in the Stone, that he mentally couldn't adjust to the sudden change.

"Loss of appetite. That's not good, but it's not abnormal either. How's his sleep?"

"It's shit. He's barely slept in the past two weeks. He has panic attacks and these... flashbacks. Like he's completely gone to us and stuck in this hell inside his head."

"What's his current sleeping arrangement?"

"Well," Tony knew it wasn't the right thing to do for his healing, but it was the only way for Peter to get any rest, "We moved a mattress to the living room and he and his aunt sleep there. It helps when we leave the lights on and play some music."

"How many hours do you think he sleeps per night?"

"I'd say maybe... two? Sometimes we can get him to nap during the day for an hour or so, but that tends to go south pretty quickly."

"Do these flashbacks happen often?"

"He went all of yesterday without one, though he had a pretty nasty panic attack in the middle of the night."

After the first weekend, May and Tony had agreed it was best to keep Peter at the Tower for the time being. They had arranged for her to spend every night and the weekends over, pretty much living there herself, and Happy was more than happy to be her chauffeur if it would help. The two shared a mattress on the living room floor; initially Tony had worried that he might hurt her while having a nightmare, but she kept her distance and he would always start muttering before moving, giving her enough time to wake up and move back.

"Sounds like he has a bad case of PTSD."

"The symptoms are all there." Tony was very familiar with the disorder; he knew the symptoms and the more well-known (and healthy) treatments, but no Google search could say how to handle a teenage superhero with enhanced abilities.

"And you're certain you can't take him to any psychologist or therapist? In this sort of extreme case, he might benefit from some medication until he can start working through this. At least something to help him sleep. You can always bend the truth a little."

"We discussed it, briefly, but he doesn't want to and to be honest, I'm not sure he could. He's a terrible liar and there's no simple way to explain this without them trying to tell me he needs to be in some sort of facility. Besides, he can't take any medication."

"Allergies?"

"Yeah," Tony lied.

Sometimes, when Peter would be sitting with his head in his hands crying and shaking and desperately trying to catch his breath, and words and hugs were useless, Tony wanted to give him something to make it all go away. But his metabolism would burn through anything and he'd find no peace in any prescription.

"I see," Sam was silent, taking a moment to think. "Can you tell me a bit about what started this?"

"It's... complicated," he said, "to put it simply, he was stuck in this dark, quiet place for a really, really long time. Like a long ass time. And now being alone or being anywhere that reminds him of that freaks him out. There's... more, but I think that's what troubles him the most."

"That's definitely the sort of thing that would take a while to recover from. I once met with a guy who had been a P.O.W for a few months and had been locked in this cell the whole time. It was a rough recovery, but eventually, he was able to start healing and last I heard he was doing well for himself."

"How'd he get better?" Tony asked.

"Lots and lots of therapy. A great support system that included a loving wife. I encouraged him to get a service dog which did a lot of good too. But most importantly, patience. He wanted to be better right away, and it took a while for me to get him to understand this wasn't something that would go away tomorrow. Seems like you have a stubborn teenager on your hands and I think that's what you need to get across to him before things can start moving forward."

"You have no idea. He's the nicest person you'll ever meet, but he's an absolute idiot when it comes to his own health."

"Wonder where he gets that from," Sam teased, "But it seems like he's got himself a solid support system, so that's a really great start. Try to get him to talk about what happened. It sucks. For him and for you, but it'll help, I promise. Get him to tell you how he feels about it, not just the facts. Work with him to minimize the triggers, anything that reminds him of that place. But, and I know this is hard for you, but don't go overboard. Don't treat him like he can't function on his own.

A lot of people, adults and kids alike, with PTSD feel like they've lost control over their lives. Their emotions. Whatever control he has, let him keep it. Help him figure out why he can't sleep in his own bed and then work out how to fix it, don't give a temporary solution that isn't going to fix the problem."

"Gotcha."

"As for the eating, try to work on giving him small snacks throughout the day instead of meals. I don't know if the situation is similar, but my P.O.W would often hoard food. Despite being in full control of his meals, he always had this fear that the next meal might not come and would try to make it last as long as possible. To help him, I had him eat small meals while keeping snacks on his person at all times, like peanuts and crackers, something he could nibble on that would sustain him and reinforce the idea that he was never without food."

"I can do that," Tony nodded, taking note of every single suggestion.

"There's also things like having him write a journal or take up a new hobby. Something new and unrelated to his life before the traumatic event happened."

"Okay, and what about this dog thing? Could that help too?"

"It could," Sam agreed, "They have some specifically trained to help people with PTSD. It's amazing, honestly. For someone who's struggling with being alone, it's something I would suggest. Mostly, keep on being patient with him and give him time."

"Thanks, Sam. This has been really helpful, you have no idea."

"Don't worry about it. And you know, I don't mind you letting the kid know that if he wants to talk to someone specialized, he can feel free to give me a call. It's always tough to see a kid go through something like this, and from the way you talk about him he seems pretty special, so if there's anything I can do to help, I'm here."

After two weeks of what kind of felt like his own personal hell, that was the nicest thing to hear even though he knew Peter well enough that he wouldn't take him up on the offer.

He and May were struggling; they had no idea how to care for him and he'd gotten more from Sam than he'd expected. Maybe now they'd make some headway.

"That's... Thanks."

"And that goes for you too. If you need anything else just give me a call, alright? The weird is my specialty."

Tony laughed, "Noted. Thanks for your help, take care, Sam."

"You too, Tony."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words and the kuddos! Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Tony instantly applied everything Sam had told him.

They couldn't sleep in the living room forever and Tony spent a couple of days in the lab making something special for Peter. It took him another day to install it across the floor they lived on, and he would take the next couple of months to install the change on the other floors Peter often frequented.

He purchased a new bed frame, one closer to the floor in case he rolled off the bed during a nightmare, and had the broken one removed.

It was a Saturday, and while she was off work May had taken Peter out to lunch at one of their favourite places; Peter tended to feel best in the middle of the day and in his continued efforts to pretend he was fine, he went without a word. The cloak stayed behind and floated around Tony as he prepared the room.

When they returned, he lead him to the bedroom and smiled proudly at his design.

"So, I made some changes that should help you sleep. We both know you can't keep sleeping in the living room with May, that's not going to help you get better."

"What did you do?" He asked, looking around the room. The new bed was obvious, but otherwise, nothing seemed different.

Tony flicked off the lights and watched Peter to see his reaction.

There was a flinch at the idea of the room going dark, but it didn't. Around the room, he had installed several nightlights, but not regular ones of course. He'd known the typical stars and planets was a no-go; they had to keep the curtains closed in all rooms once it started to get dark as that was a guaranteed flashback trigger. Instead, he'd used one of his favourite things. Superheroes.

In the darkness, small lighted silhouettes moved across the walls and ceiling. Peter recognized them all; Iron Man with his blasters, the Hulk smashing, Captain America with his shield, Black Widow and her guns, Hawkeye with his bow, and Thor with his hammer. His childhood favourites.

"Don't you think it's a little..."

"Geekie?"

He was going to say ' _childish_ '. He couldn't lie and say he didn't like it, but he was mostly embarrassed at needing a nightlight in the first place that it was hard to appreciate the effort that had gone into it.

"I've got this set up everywhere on our floor, but only for you. If you need to leave the room and don't want to turn on the lights, Friday is set to put these on for you. They're also powered by a separate generator, in the near-impossible chance we have a power outage."

"Oh," he was warmed by his words and couldn't think of anything to say. His eyes burned at the show of love and he tried not to let any tears fall. He'd cried enough in the last two weeks to last him a lifetime.

"How do you feel about trying to sleep here tonight? Is this enough, or do you have other suggestions?" Tony asked.

Peter could see the hope in his eyes and nodded, "Should be good, but you really shouldn't have gone through all this trouble. At least just the room would have been fine."

"It's in my genetics to go above and beyond all expectations, Petey-pie. You should know this by now."

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, Mr. Stark. Thank you, though. For this. I really think it'll help."

Which was the truth. He couldn't stand to look out at the night sky anymore, something that used to bring him such joy especially while swinging around in his currently unused Spider-Man suit. The superheroes were the perfect touch, even if it was a tad childish.

"Good. We'll test it out tonight and see how it goes. And of course you know where I'll be and Friday will alert me if there are any concerns. Also, the guest room a couple doors down has been sorted out for May, so she'll be close too."

"That's great. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I, um, I think I should get to my schoolwork now. I don't want to fall behind."

"Sounds good. Come down to the lab when you're done, we can work on that '52 Bentley some more."

While Peter settled down in the living room with his schoolwork and the magic cloak for company, Tony brought May down to the labs where he knew Peter couldn't hear them. His super-hearing had required a learning curve and occasional experiments to see exactly how far away he had to be not to be heard.

He'd already spoken to both Pepper and Stephen about his conversation with Sam; Pepper over Skype, because someone had to run the company and Tony was in no shape to do so, and Stephen sometime during the day while Peter was distracted by gamma radiation research (Bruce wasn't _that_ cool and Tony wasn't bitter). Stephen had chosen to stick around as much as possible, letting Peter draw comfort from the cloak and seeming interested in his recovery as much as the rest of them.

Tony didn't question it. Stephen was sarcastic and snobby at times, but he'd been there for Peter for three months when no one else could be. From Peter's adoring gaze, he guessed he'd done a good enough job of keeping him happy. Besides, he knew how hard it was not to get wrapped around one of his tiny, sticky fingers.

Now, Tony took the opportunity to tell May everything he'd learned from Sam. He told her about the lights, his attempt to start working towards fixing the sleeping situation and about the things he wanted to start implementing.

She was Peter's guardian and had the final say in anything, he never deluded himself into thinking otherwise, and luckily she agreed with his ideas.

"I know calling them must have been hard for you, so thank you for doing this for Peter. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done without you."

"He wouldn't have been on some planet in the middle of nowhere."

"Then he would have watched a bunch of people around him die and wonder what was going on and then end up in some soul-world with no one to help him because he'd have never met Dr. Strange," May sassed him with a look that called him an idiot without her having to say it, "Yes, that definitely sounds way better. Just let me be grateful, would you? I mean, without you, I wouldn't have you and Pepper and Stephen, and that's a pretty solid support system of my own, you know?"

Tony smiled and nodded, "Alright, point made. You win this time, May Parker."

"Don't I always?" She laughed and then her face softened and she said, "I don't think I've ever told you this, but when I found out that Mary and Richard had died and me and Ben were going to have to take care of Peter, I remember being relieved knowing that he was the sweetest, easiest kid to take care of. I babysat kids as a teenager for some spare cash and it was always a nightmare. And then Richard would drop off Peter and I'd never met a more perfect child. He was smart and curious and had learned his manners.

I'd push him in his stroller and he'd wave and smile at people on the street. The whole situation was horrible, of course, but we loved him and taking care of him came easy enough. Obviously, no one thinks this is how their life will turn out, but I still consider myself pretty lucky. He lost his parents and then his uncle, but now we have other people who love him and want the best for him, and it's such a relief to have that security net, you know?"

Oddly enough, he knew. He understood that feeling because he felt it himself. When he looked at Peter, he knew that he was loved and that should anything happen to him, he would still be cared for.

"Yeah, I know."

They were going to work on the eating and the sleeping, using Sam's suggestions, and make their way from there.

He showed her to her own room which had been previously unused. She had accumulated a few bags of her belongings and sorted everything out while Tony returned to the lab waiting for Peter to join him.

They had previously discussed her going on work leave, Tony had even offered to pay her her salary if she had to go unpaid, but May refused on principle. She had a home to pay for and she would work for it. Peter didn't seem to mind; enjoying a bit of time to himself or to hang out with one of the Tower's many occupants.

She didn't like being away from him but knew he would have been upset to know she was taking a leave from work on his behalf.

The drive to work was long and she had to surrender a bit of sleep, but it was worth it. She got home in time for dinner with whoever was available; Peter loved talking to Bruce about science things she didn't understand, or with Rhodey who loved sharing embarrassing Tony stories that she could completely understand.

It was an odd yet perfect arrangement.

And that night, Peter slept in his own bed all by himself for the first time in two weeks.

When he woke up, Tony asked Friday for information on how the night had gone since he hadn't been woken by Peter or his AI.

Peter hadn't slept much. He had woken from a nightmare but had remained in bed. He went in and out of consciousness a few times, often waking up and staring around the room in wonder. The nightlights seemed to be helping. It caught his attention and kept away anything that would normally trigger a flashback.

It wasn't the regular eight hours of sleep a teenager should be getting, but Tony knew it was a step forward.

He got out of bed and knocked on his door, "Pete?"

There was a second of silence before Peter responded, "I'm up."

He opened the door and stepped into the brightened room, "Good morning."

"Mornin'."

Peter was cocooned in his blankets (no rips which was a good sign) and the cloak was laying across them. He entered the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed, "How are you feeling?"

Peter sat up, taking the blankets and cloak with him, and said, "I'm good. Slept alright. I think the lights really helped, thanks again, Mr. Stark."

"I'm glad to hear it kiddo."

In what was almost rare nowadays, Peter's returning smile was real.

Through the next few days, they worked on the snacks, having him eat a little bit every couple of hours. He found some suggestions online about what to have him eat and had gotten things like fruits and yogurt and nuts. Peter slowly started gaining back some appetite, though not nearly as much as he used to have.

Tony knew that that was something that was going to take a lot more time, but Peter was doing well at sleeping in his own room as the days wore on and it felt like progress was being made.

The moments of dissociation and the flashbacks, which Tony had learned to separately identify, were becoming less frequent though remained as intense. The first time Peter had gone completely still, unblinking and unable to say a word, it lasted over an hour and if it weren't for Rhodey who'd searched the internet for answers, Tony might have dragged him straight to wherever the ex-Avengers were hiding for Sam to take a look at him.

"How would you feel about a dog?"

May stared at Tony like he'd grown another head.

"What?"

"A service dog," he adds, "for Peter. Obviously, it'd have to be a family commitment, since he's living under our roofs and couldn't really care for a dog all on his own. What do you think?"

"Um, I don't know, Tony. That's a really big commitment for all of us. What would we do with a dog when Peter goes to college? I mean that's still the plan, right? It's what he's always wanted."

"Of course that's the plan. With the right paperwork, the dog can go on campus with him. It'd even be allowed to go to classes and would never have to leave his side."

"I know Sam mentioned it, but do you really think it would help?"

"I've been looking into it and it looks like something he might need at this point. Here let me show you," Tony held out his phone and Friday displayed some of the research he'd found on the subject.

May read over the information, taking in what situations these dogs learned to handle and how it could benefit someone suffering from PTSD, because there was no doubting Peter's condition.

"I see what you mean. This seems like the sort of thing that would have a long wait list though."

"Between me and Dumbledore, we can make anything happen," Tony said. "I think this would help a lot with the codependency. At this rate, he'll become a hermit and never leave the house."

Her lips pursed, but she didn't deny it.

"Alright then. You win this one, Stark."

"Good, because you and Pete have an appointment tomorrow afternoon to meet a dog," he flashed her his camera worthy smile and hoped he was sitting far enough that she couldn't smack him.

She huffed, "And how does Pepper feel about dogs, hm?"

His smile faded.

"Right. That."

"I assume Happy will be giving us a lift?"

"Yup. I should go see Pepper."

"You should."

They weren't going to pick up the dog right away; they needed to introduce her to Peter first and see how they meshed. May didn't tell him ahead of time, worried he might grow defensive, but as they sat in the car on their way to the appointment, she confessed.

"Her name's Lilo, and she's a two-year-old black lab. She's specialized to help teenagers with PTSD."

"I don't have-" Peter started to protest but didn't have the energy for that conversation again, "I can't just get a _dog_. What am I supposed to do with a dog?"

"I happen to remember you begging for one when you were younger."

"That's different."

"Me and Tony agree that this will be good for you. You can bring her everywhere, even to class. If you go to college in the fall, she'll be able to come with you. She'll help you get your independence again, don't you think that'd be nice?"

"I, yeah, but..." Peter stared out the window in silence.

After a moment, she said, "We're not forcing this on you. Today's just to meet her. If, when we're done, you decide you don't want a service dog, we'll drop the idea."

"Okay."

Peter fell in love with the little furry creature of joy as soon as his eyes landed on her and wanted to take her home immediately. They showed him what she knew, what she could help with. During moments of dissociation, she could guide him to a safe place, turn on the lights during a nightmare, and help alleviate anxiety and calm panic attacks.

He tried to ignore all of that and focused on her brown eyes and wagging tail.

It was hard accepting that he'd woken up one day mentally shattered. Everyone around him was fine and here he was falling apart at the seams.

He couldn't even look at the Spider-Man suit; it would trigger his spidey sense, a blaring sign of _danger_. He knew that was all internalized, but there was no turning it off. It was nice getting to spend all of his time in the Tower with Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce, and with his aunt and Pepper for even more company, but he was missing his old life.

The crime-fighting and nerdy high school student life.

Going back to high school was never going to happen, that much he'd accepted, but he wanted to go to college. He wanted to be Spider-Man again, and the only way to do that was to get better.

"I think I'd be okay if we adopted Lilo," Peter told his aunt in the car ride home, "she's adorable."

"Oh yeah?" May smiled, "I'm glad you think so. She seemed taken with you, too."

"But do you really think Mr. Stark will be okay with having a dog? I mean, I don't expect to stay at the Tower forever, but for now..."

"Let's not worry about that right now, alright? There's no time stamp on how long you're allowed to live there. This is what you need right now, so this is what we're going to give you. And, if you must know, Tony's the one that suggested the dog."

"Really?"

"I think it's just an excuse for a pet, to be honest. Although I would have taken him for the exotic pet kind of guy. Like a tiger or a koala."

Peter laughed, "I think he'd like something cool. Maybe a bunch of sharks. In a huge tank under the floor! And they have lasers on their heads and he uses them to annihilate his enemies."

"I'm pretty sure that's from a movie."

"I could see it happening."

May looked over at her nephew and her heart warmed at the smile on his face. She still had hope that things would look up for him, that they could give him the future he'd wanted for himself.

When they returned to the Tower, Tony was already making preparations for their new dog because he'd had no doubt Peter would give in when confronted with the combined power of his aunt's love and Lilo's cuteness. He'd gone all out with the supplies; getting a large supply of the dog food the trainers recommended; a few dog beds for the rooms Peter frequented, his bedroom, the living room, the lab; an array of toys set in a basket in the living room; and construction on a green balcony was in the works.

It would be easier to take the dog out for her business if they didn't need to go down 80 floors to find a patch of grass.

"What if I'd said no?" Peter asked.

"What kid would ever say no to a dog?" Tony quipped back.

They were seated side by side on the couch, Tony working from his phone and Peter tossing in the air a brand new tennis ball. May was working on dinner because even a billionaire couldn't live off take out every single day.

"We didn't have to get one that comes with a vest."

"Would a puppy know not to get too close to you when you're having a nightmare?" Peter didn't respond. Tony put down his phone and turned to him, "Pete, you're the bravest and strongest kid I know. Needing help doesn't make you weak. You went through hell. I've been in some pretty shit places myself, and sometimes you have to accept you aren't okay."

"I don't want to not be okay," he admitted.

There was a consistent _pat pat pat_ as the ball landed in his palm for him to toss it up again.

"I know it sucks. And trust me, I know. But pretending you aren't isn't going to make this go away. I still have days where my anxiety gets the best of me, and I still get woken up by nightmares about shit that happened years ago, but there are a lot of good days too, and as time goes on those days will happen more often. Let yourself breathe, no one's judging you but yourself."

Peter set the ball down beside him.

It had been a month since he'd woken in his bed with memories no one else had. Sometimes he remembered that his pain was as difficult for everyone around him to watch as it was for him to live it, but he'd often lose himself in his own inner turmoil and would neglect their feelings.

"I'm sorry, I know you're all trying really hard to make this easier for me."

"Don't be sorry, Peter. I want you to be honest with me; the good and the bad."

He looked down at his lap and said a thought he'd been keeping to himself, "Getting a service dog means I'll be like this until... for another decade, at least."

"Oh, kiddo..." he brushed his hair back off his forehead and smiled when he met his gaze, "Service dogs retire. You're adopting her, so she _is_ yours, but eventually, she'll retire and just be your dog. And that sounds like a sweet deal to me."

Peter returned the smile, "And you really still get nightmares sometimes?"

"I do," he said, "Honestly? It took a long time to realize I was never going to be the same person I was before, but now I know that I'm okay with that."

"How long did it take? To be okay."

"I couldn't say. It wasn't overnight. Pepper and Rhodey could probably tell you more, they were the ones stuck dealing with me."

"And now you're stuck dealing with me."

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his hair, "There are worse things."

Peter laughed and tried to pull away without using his real strength.

They were interrupted by Stephen portalling in the middle of the living room; he liked to pretend that was a normal thing to do. After a couple of weeks he no longer stayed overnight, but would often come for dinner and was always a text away should Peter need his help.

"I believe May has finished dinner," he told them.

"Joining us today, Gandalf?"

Stephen rolled his eyes and wandered to the dining room to help May set the table. The cloak waved to Peter and followed after him.

Peter thought this might be an okay place to be, even with the nightmares and the flashbacks and the dissociation.

A couple weeks later, tossing and turning in bed and keeping his eyes on the flying Iron Man to ground himself, he heard Tony get out of bed. That was not completely unusual, until he realized he wasn't going back. Following after him, because it was now nearly three in the morning and there was no chance of more sleep, he found him down in the lab working on a part of his suit.

He was in rumpled pajama pants and an old MIT t-shirt. There were dark bags under his eyes and Peter could see the occasional tremor in his left hand.

"Heya, kiddo."

"Hey, Mr. Stark."

Tony reached out and pat the seat beside him. Peter sat down and watched him work.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tony asked him.

"No," he admitted. "Sorry."

"Me too."

Peter understood. "Oh." He wondered if he should go, but didn't ask because he didn't want to leave. The lab was nice.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not much to say," Peter said.

"Really?"

Tony never looked up at him, working effortlessly on something he knew better than the back of his hand. It was entrancing and it was easy to let his guard down.

"Sometimes, I dream that I'm back there again and that all of this wasn't real."

There was a moment of silence and then Tony said, "Sometimes, I dream that I was never rescued from Afghanistan."

It was an offer of understanding and Peter accepted it.

"But the dreams aren't real, right? We're both really here?" It was meant to sound confident, but it was a search for comfort.

"Of course we are." Tony pushed the suit piece, part of the left arm, towards him and handed him the screwdriver, "Here. See if you can find and fix the faulty wiring."

Peter smiled, "Alright."

There was still a lot of headway to make in his recovery, but as the days wore on it was becoming easier to remind himself, and appreciate the knowledge, that he remembered so that no one else had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty!
> 
> So - important question. I'm not done with this yet, I'm already writing more. But the next part will be a time jump and will involve Spideypool. Now, I can just add on to this story, but if people prefer the idea of it being a separate part with different tags, let me know.
> 
> If no one has any preference, I'll make it a sequel and its own part; hopefully, the first part will be out in a few days, so keep an eye out if you're interested in where this story goes!
> 
> The question of why Peter remembers will not go unanswered, I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

Just a little notice that the first chapter of the second part of this series is out now if you're interested in reading it! It's called 'To Be Remembered'.

 

Cheers everyone :)


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